i can't translate
the words from our pages

they were born out of swedish syllabics

formed by
the dialectic way
you formed your lips
around j's
so different from me

the shifting distance
in our pauses
silently inviting the other one
to pick up

the rytm
in our morning talks
melodies from your tongue  
seconds before  
you break into a smile

our memoirs
are coloured by the
raw cold winter
sprung from northern skies  

and they just won't
render
into something else
despite my aching need
to write you out

i call you.
because i
cannot
stand
this

im not ok.
simply
breathing
takes too much

my emptiness
pour out

you answer.
say hi,
and ask me
how i am

and
i tell you.
fine.

alongside
stillness
grows
the storm

the closer you get
the further i reach

your presence
create spaces
where your shadows will
hollow

underneath
your dreams
im untold

[you pull me closer]
[are you leaving]

with the same intensity
felicity
sorrow
tenderness
rage

little by little

what if you stay
what if you leave
im equally afraid
of both

will there be anything left to feel
when we lay to rest
at last.

and they all applied to the consequences of your absence.

i've been raining dry

all you left behind
running through the
drains
beneath my feet
in my palms

i feel like
you stole
me

all my seasons

how i used to
burst with spring
summer rain
linger brightly
against the crispy snow
coloured by
the fall

but now
i'm nothing
but

endless
descent

how can anything
come of this

sometimes
i wished we never
would have set fire
like we did

i've been living in our ruins   
ever since